Poor Aunt Julia! She too, would soon be a shade. […] Yes, yes: that would happen very soon.
One by one they were all becoming shades. Better pass boldly into that other world , in the full glory of some passion, than fade wither dismally with age.
A young man standing under a dripping tree. Other forms were near. His soul had approached that region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead.
A grey impalpable world: the solid world itself which these dead had one time reared and lived in was dissolving and dwindling.
It had begun to snow again.
His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.